Unwritten

1

Harry sighed. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He'd waited five long, busy years for an extended break from his constant touring, recording & promoting with One Direction and yet just three short months into it - he was bored. Totally bored.
It had been fun at first - sleeping in until noon - playing golf - hanging out with friends - an exotic holiday and a tonne of family time but now the novelty had worn off. The truth was that he just wasn't very good at doing nothing. He'd never had that luxury. Life wasnt fulfilling anymore without concerts to put on and a busy schedule.

He decided to start writing songs ready to put forward for one directions next album when they returned next year. It would keep him busy and he'd always enjoyed the writing process even if it had always been rushed. It might be nice to be able to take his time and have no deadlines for once. He went out and bought a black leather bound notebook to start compiling lyrics in.

First he thought about ideas to centre his songs around; love, friendships, his life.... the trouble was he'd already wrote about these subjects on numerous occasions. What more could he say? Broken heart, broken promises, girls being fake.... he'd already touched on it all. He sat quietly on his bed willing some words to come. They just didnt.
He couldnt find a way to start. Looking up at the clock it was only 1pm. He was bored out of his mind. No plans, nobody to hang out with - all of his non celebrity friends at home in cheshire were at work. Back here where he grew up was the one place he'd dreamed of being whenever he was away on tour....only now he was here, he was pretty lonely. It just wasnt the same anymore - five years had passed and everything had changed. Everyone had moved on. Suddenly the song inspiration hit him. He needed to write about THIS. The change.

He grabbed a pencil and began to brainstorm words that described how he was feeling. Lost. Lonely. Left behind. Bored. Depressed. That last word hit him. Depressed?? Was he actually depressed? He threw down the pencil and walked over to his full length mirror and looked at himself. His trademark curly hair was tied up, his body wrapped in sweatpants and a hoody. His skin wasnt clear. He wasnt shaven and had tatty stubble. He'd gained a little weight. No stylists, no personal trainer, no hairdresser, no pampering for three months and now it had all begun to show.... He wasnt Harry Styles the celebrity anymore. He was just....Harry. Plain old Harry. He didnt like what he saw.

He walked back to his bed and took out his phone, scrolling through his twitter mentions. Thousands upon thousands of them from his fans. It was the boost he needed to drag himself off of his bed and into the shower - he needed to sort his life out before he let these fans down and became someone they wouldnt recognise. It was already starting to happen after just a few months - he could only imagine how bad it could get after a year.
He jumped into the shower, shaved, washed his hair and preened his skin. He felt better already. Next he dressed himself in black skinny jeans and a white t'shirt with brown boots. Within 30 minutes he was looking much more like the harry he recognised. He grabbed his car keys and phone, notebook and pencil and drove into town to a coffee shop. No more wallowing around the house alone - he was destroying himself.

He ordered a pot of tea and sat brainstorming more ideas, scribbling them into his notebook. Nobody bothered him. Everyone in this small town knew him - they werent starstruck by him and for that he was truly grateful. Normality had its benefits.
Soon it was dark, the coffee shop was closing up and he was the only person left inside. He gathered his belongings and left, feeling satisfied that he had actually achieved something worthwhile today. He'd started on a song.

Back home he ordered takeaway and slipped back into his sweatpants and hoody as he sat by the fire and wrote. His ideas filling three pages of his new notebook. He turned to a new page and started writing.

He looked back at the words on the page and frowned. His true feelings finally beginning to show. He missed the band. He missed his One Direction life. He hadnt really realised that until now. Thats the thing about writing. True emotions show. He also realised it had taken him four hours to write just a few lines and even then they were incomplete - filled with question marks he'd have to go over and over until he could fill the blanks, he just couldnt find the words. He couldnt write alone. It was too hard. Normally there was at least one other band member present and two or three song writers. He huffed and slammed the notebook shut. He couldnt do it.

He opened his laptop and seached "writing forum" and soon enough he found a website called 'writersblock' where you could post your work and other writers would come along and look at it and offer help where they could. Sure it was a site for writers and poets - not songwriters - but how different were the two anyway? He signed up to become a member of the site and immediately posted what he'd written so far - hoping someone, somewhere could help.

Changes
Who am I now? Where do i belong?
Its been too long since I last performed???
A break was needed........???
But did we need a whole year???
I miss the chaos, fun....????
I miss the tours, the travelling.... nice places????
Time feels frozen the days pass slow???
How much more can I take??????

He added a note explaining the context of what he was trying to achieve. The fact he was on a career break after years in a band and he was bored. He felt down. He wished things were different. He thanked people in advance for any help they could offer but didnt hold out much hope. He asdumed this wasnt really something many people would be able to relate to.

He closed his laptop and crawled into bed. Tomorrow he'd try again. He was a lot of things but not a quitter.

Morning dawned and he fired up his laptop in bed, following his usual routine of checking his social media, replying to fans and such then checked his emails. There was a notification from 'Writersblock' teling him that someone had commented on his post. He clicked the link.

Reply from @writing4fun
Hope this helps

Changes
Who am I now? Where do i belong?
Its been too long since I last sung a song,
A break was welcome but now im bored,
A year seems too long, my tiredness is cured,
I miss the chaos, the laughs, the fun,
I miss the tours, the travelling, the sun,
Time feels frozen the days pass by so slow,
How much more can I take, i just dont know.

He read and reread it unable to believe a stranger had found the words about HIS life that he couldnt....and theyd strung them together so....beautifully.... so effortlessly. He hit reply.

@writing4fun Thats incredible. Thank you so much! You captured it perfectly.

Immediately a reply returned to him (@HS21) from @writing4fun No problem - anytime. I only finished off what youd started!

He copied the verse out into his notebook and beamed a huge smile. He felt proud he'd written most of it himself, even if some of it had been helped along by a writer on a website. He started to write the next verse immediately.